The Fearsome Name of Riddle

Painted Plan

Tall rocky walls spanned hundreds of feet above, and not so many below, Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy. Draco travelled so far down into the cavern of Gringotts bank each time he and his family needed to visit the Malfoy vault but Hermione had only been past the thief's downfall once before. Now, she accepted the hand of Draco Malfoy as he helped her from the train cart onto the perilous looking platform that had been carved into the cave wall. The Granger vault opened with her near the surface. Ancient families hid deep within the Earth and the one they sought was opened before Hogwarts had been founded.

"And you're sure it's in here?" Hermione asked as Draco turned and strode confidently behind the goblin leading the way. 

"If the vault was empty, the bank would close it without any family members to fill it," Draco told her, glancing back as Hermione took double steps to keep up with his long legs. "you know that, Granger." 

"Mr Malfoy is quite right," the goblin reassured her as he came up to the large iron door that protected everything the Gaunt family had seen fit to put in its confines. 

Long pointed fingers stroked down the ornate metal work and the latches and locks began to click open. Metal snakes slithered off into the walls, unhooking themselves from one another and separating from the stone. Draco could almost hear his own heart beating as silence finally echoed once again through the depths of the bank. He could never meet his Grandmother, not in person. She was long dead, lost to the memories of those that knew her, only recently remembered. This would be the closest he would ever get. 

"Quite a curious thing to keep locked away," the goblin commented as the door swung open to reveal the room behind it. 

The Gaunt vault held no gold. Not a knut lay about the floor, not one golden treasure or jewel. A family of notorious isolationists and gamblers had seen to that. A once mighty house dwindled and spent by the arrogance of Salazar Slytherin’s descendants. But something so precious that the last in their line had seen fit to acknowledge his own heritage and bring it here, sat leaning against the back wall. 

The portrait stood tall. A gilded, golden frame of laurel, the same as her wand. Victoria Malfoy sat sleeping on a dark green, leather seat. Heavy, black curtains hung behind her with a glittering pattern of silver sewn into them. Her hair lay pin straight over her shoulder as always described and photographed. Her face, a picturesque thing, seemed more than calm. The oils became dormant after a while, the magic settling with nothing to talk to. Draco understood why others thought that she was not as old as she had been but he didn't think her as immortal looking as she claimed others believed in her journals. Lines on her face held years of gentle smiles and when she stirred and opened her eyes at the noise, her brow furrowed ever so softly and that cold gaze struck him like death. 

"Who are you?" She asked with a sneering tone that he had not expected. The Malfoy matriarch lifted her head and crossed her legs beneath the expensive fabric of her black dresses that seemed determined to strangle her though she didn't seem to mind. 

"My name is Draco," he said with a shaky breath as he stepped into the vault properly. "Draco Malfoy, I am Lucius and Narcissa's son." 

He smiled in the hope that he would get to see the warmth his father had told him about but Victoria didn't soften. 

"Is that so," she sighed, clicking her painted fingers one at a time like she had done nothing but sit perfectly still since the portrait had been placed there. "And where is your father?" 

"He remains at the Manor," Draco explained, leaning back on his manners given that she didn't seem to believe him. “We have had hardship in recent years and things need tending at home.”